Young Blood
by ScotlanXX
Summary: The pack would be the death of him, this secret, this whole other world that had consumed him, would kill him. And he couldn't come up with a good enough excuse not to care. There was to much blood on his hands now, young blood, and he would go down fighting.The kid had been through plenty of excuses, many many excuses, so many excuses, he was sure to drown in them very soon.
1. One: We are young and naive still

_**Chapter one**: We're only young and Naive still  
_

Stiles grabbed a hold of his head as it began to pound with an increasingly annoying ache, fumbling through the front door after having just floundered his way home from an abnormal and very disturbing session with his new principal, who also happened to be his best friends currently on hold girlfriend Allison Argent's grandfather, who _also _happens to be a werewolf slash supernatural threat, band of hunters. A whole family of crazy assholes was currently more like it.

After having probably one of the best night of his high school life and making the winning shot of the lacrosse game, he was kidnapped. Fucking _kidnapped_! Knocked out, awakened in a basement with two werewolf betas- Erica and Boyd- dangling from the ceiling in chains, electric ones putting through a current to weaken them and force them in a state of duress, unable to shift enough to pull themselves loose. Normal chains and shackles would have been torn through with enough force by a werewolf, especially an angry, caged one at that. It was seeing them both so helpless that made Stiles fume.

The kid had been through plenty of excuses, many many excuses, so many excuses, he was sure to drown in them very soon, just on Scott's behalf and Allison's. Trying to give her credit, so she was pissed at Derek because he bit her mom, and her mom decided _'Oh I refuse to live as one of them so I'll convince my husband to kill me when the change happens'. _He knew how it felt to lose a parent, especially a mother...he knew the feeling too well. But Allison had lost her fucking mind. She had gone bat shit crazy, and yes, Stiles had voiced those exact words, many times in the past forty-eight hours.

The girl would kill any of them, if they tried protecting Derek. Even though Jackson was their priority right now, she still was set on making Derek pay, even though what he'd done was not fully on purpose. He was trying to save Scott. The poor guy never got a break, good intentions or none at all, Derek seemed to have the worst streak of luck.

Unfortunately, it seemed so did Stiles. Erica had warned him off with her looks, shaking her head weakly, trying to tell him to back off. He figured out not much sooner that they were sending electric currents through the binds. Before he could even react to any thought of getting them help, he was struck into an uncomfortable conversation, with the very disturbed Gerard Argent. Of course Stiles mouth never shut up, and the sick old man had the nerve to say he '_wished it didn't have to be this way', _or some excuse like that._ Biggest bullshit in the book of bullshit!_ Stiles thought, even before the man had began pounding his '_message'_ to the Alpha upon his very breakable human body.

Stiles felt the pain, felt everything ache, but he refused Gerard the satisfaction of seeing him just break down in the midst of this minor battle. He could be strong, if possible, for the two betas whose eyes were wide and bodies struggling against the bindings. It was a nice attempt, Stiles appreciated the effort, even if it was a lost cause. He even managed to smile through the blood dripping from his nose and his lips, and his cheek...probably looking like hell, for the two Betas as he was pulled from the basement. Eyes locked on each others until he was hauled out of view.

Now here he was, already tripping over himself and the entrance of his house, trying to make his way to the stairs. One foot at a time, he tried, truly, to remind himself of that pattern. The stumbling only got worse, and the heaviness of the last eighteen hours has taken its toll. Gripping the stair rail with as much energy as he could muster, he used the free hand to create an odd patter of pulling with the railing and pushing up from the steps, barely making it to the second floor landing when his Fathers voice came in a calm but worried tone, traveling to Stiles ears when he straightened himself out. The few steps he managed to his doorway were painful, and heavy. His energy drained. He watched his father hang up the phone with what he guessed was the police station. His Dad probably reminded them every ten minutes that his son was still out there, somewhere. Only he wasn't, and Stiles hitched a breath of the familiar scent of home as he spoke.

"**I'm right here dad..."** He said softly, even his own voice sounded different to him, like it wasn't even him who spoke. The Sheriff turned his head sharply, eyes blazing emotion, brimming with tears yet to be shed. Stiles felt himself take a heavy step forward as his fathers questioning gaze took him in. His eyes burning through the teen. Stiles knew his dad was taking in the bruised, split open lip, the marred flesh of his cheek, the dark layer mooned around his eye. Stiles practically felt his eyes boring into him.

"**Stiles.." Stiles let out a tired sigh. **

"**Dad, I'm fine, really..." **He blew out a breath, not sure if even he believed his own words.** "It was just some kids from the other team...Seriously...I'm okay it's not even that bad."**

The man was not convinced. Even after a very shaky embrace and nearly an hour of reassurance that it wasn't a big deal, Stiles knew he'd only won by proxy. The Sheriff knew the boy was worn out and tired, and Stiles was thankful the man gave in when Stiles began nodding off at the foot of the bed. When Stiles came too, he shifted uncomfortably, shifting in the lacrosse gear he realized he was still very much strapped into.

The boy heaved a throaty protest as his body ached, forcing itself to try and shift off the bed awkwardly. Stiles managed to stable himself with the wall when he did manage to stand, taking a moment or two before removing the gear in strained, short movements. It tumbled to the floor without grace, Stiles heaving a sigh of relief from the strain being lifted from his aching body. He moved for the bed again, not caring right now whether he may be in desperate need of a shower.

And he would have been very, very, _very_ happy to let himself sleep until the world ended, if a cool breeze didn't shove its way through the atmosphere like it owned the place. Stiles shivered, twisted carefully with a grimace while he tried to dislodge the comforter from under his weight, trying to shove himself under it somehow. It took some effort not t twist the wrong ways, but he ended up finally under the covers of his bed, letting out a strangled breathe as he settled into the confines of the mattress.

Almost immediately the teen fell back into slumber, completely unaware of the narrowed red eyes gazing intently at his sleeping form.

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Author's Note: So this will be a chapter fic, I honestly have not written in a long time, not something new. This is going to have to be a R&R with you guys, and girls, I will need feedback so I know how I am doing, sometimes it will be short, sometimes longer, it depends on my muse. Bare with me, I honestly love Sterek, I love those of you authors who are writing it too, the AU's are wonderful, those of you who write it terribly, well try to stop maiming me lol jk, otherwise your heads are in the right place :)

Thank you.


	2. Two: The motive changes like the wind

Author's Note:Well here is chapter two of Young Blood, let me know how i'm doing yeah? ;) thank for the support guys. enjoy!

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_**Chapter Two**_**:**

_The mood it changes like the wind._

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Derek was staring absently at the charred wall of the Hale house. This, entire situation, was out of control. Gerard had to be stopped, Jackson had to be stopped, Allison...Derek clenched his jaw tight. He knew they were attempting to save Jackson, but this was all out of hand, completely, and utterly out of hand, and now they had Stiles. The human, the human that was frail, and weak, and easy to kill. The boy he had grown accustomed to listen to, through the bullshit ramblings and the tight ended conversation between his pack, and Scott's pack.

_God when did this all get so tangled? _This _web_ of distrust and lies. Derek still could not get over how betrayed he felt when he over-heard Scott and Gerard, or the fear that gripped him when Stiles had collapsed. How many times had this boy tried being the hero? How many times, had he reminded Derek, that he was Scott's pack, or Scott's best-friend, that he was doing this for Scott and his father, but continually coming to Derek's rescue? OR The pack's rescue.

Stiles had held Erica, fought to bring her too him when she was weak and scared in the library. Stiles had nearly passed out attempting to get ready to saw off Derek's limbs, thankfully Scott came in last minute, same as the pool. It had been hours, in that pool. Derek remembered Scott telling Allison to go, and she'd listened a few times, Stiles...Stiles didn't listen. Derek heart the heart beat stutter when the sudden nick showed on his neck. _Felt _him surge with some uncanny emotion he had yet to understand. In that moment, he was powerless, falling slowly in sudden disarray as warm arms circled around him, pulling, tugging, pleading for him to move.

He remembered Stiles holding him up for hours In the pool, trying to maintain his energy and keep them both alive. It was then he knew, his barriers had been breached. He was wrong about not trusting anyone. He trusted Stiles. This, pash feeling taking hold as he looked at the boy had diminished as soon as he saw the look in Stiles eyes, _"No, STIL-"_ The water engulfed him ,and he can still recall the feeling of panic, not being able to move, not able to breathe, not able to do anything to survive. He was defenseless. Not a feeling Derek ever wanted to feel again, like the fire...just...completely helpless.

It was short lived though, suddenly being tugged from the depths to a sudden rush of cold air hitting his wet skin. He sucked in the oxygen greedily and exhaled with a low growl as Stiles held onto him again, though tighter than before. _"Tell me you got a hold of him." _Stiles had opened his mouth briefly and winced, huffing water from his lips, and Derek gritted his teeth. About to say something else but the exhaustion was already at its peak, for both of them. Even as Stiles attempted to wade through the water, pulling weakly at Derek, straining to grab hold of _something, _anything to keep them alive a little bit longer.

He heard the boys heart speed up, the anxiety radiating off of him and the fear mixed with something else, desperation perhaps, as they both sunk beneath the surface. Short lived of course, because as always, in some for of another, Scott managed to yank them up and out of the pool. Sloshing heavily against the concrete floor surrounding the pool. Heaving in much needed air, bodies ready to just, shut down.

Something in both of them changed that night. Derek had felt it. It was an intense shift in the balance of their staggered relationship, and it continued to get a little stranger as the following weeks came and passed by. The club, the station, the game...and now Stiles was gone...just, gone. He couldn't even find his scent. How was that? He failed...failed to protect them, failed to lead them...Erica, Boyd...leaving, Isaac torn between himself and Scott...now Stiles.

With a tight growl escaping passed his lips, Derek slammed his fist down hard with the rotting wood step he was sitting on, the plank giving way beneath him immediately. Derek had to jump up to avoid sliding into the now brilliant hold In the stair-step.

"**Shit."** He sighed, moving for his jacket as his phone began to vibrate madly against the banister through the leather. Looking down at the caller ID he saw it was Scott. He really didn't want to answer it, he was most definably not going to answer it. _...what if it's Stiles...Scott would be the first to know right? _Derek shut his eyes, teeth grinding sickeningly against each other, the phone still vibrating in his hand, trying to still the wolf inside him. It was clawing at the barrier, snarling, whining, pleading to just answer...just to see...just to hear...he'd never forgive himself if he didn't answer what could be an important moment. _Stiles could be safe, or stiles could be hurt...or..._

Derek hit the green call button on the screen, trying to control his tone as he answered. **"Scott-"**

"**No, it's Isaac...Scott's...I-I got the call first, I was here..." **Isaac voice breathed out, it didn't sound as strained as it had been earlier when they'd all met up to do their own search party around to schools perimeter, trying to pick up a scent, but it all ended on the lacrosse field. Only a faint smell of sandalwood lingering in the air. Derek heard Isaac take a deep breath before continuing. **"Sheriff Stilinski called...Stiles came home...but Derek I...I'm here, I just checked on him, he's asleep but...Derek, they hurt him...I smell Argent, all over him."**

"**Stay there." **Derek hung up the cell and shoved it in his pocket as he climbed down the steps, he inhaled a shaky breath before he took off running through the treeline. Honestly he should've shifted to make it easier, but he didn't have to time to do that or take his car. He had to see him, Derek had to know Stiles was alive. See for himself that the boy was okay. Stiles was such a huge asset to the pack, and to life in general. That is how they all saw it. Stiles was strong willed and smart, and definitely comedy relief, but most of all, he had kept Derek alive. In so many ways. He sparked something inside the Alpha, that Derek thought had died out long ago.

He made him care.

It had been nearly ten minutes, when Isaac's wolf perked up, catching the presence of the Alpha. His eyes followed the form which was now exiting the woods and coming upon the house. Isaac glanced helplessly at the older male. "I don't know what to do..."

"Just...find Scott, find the others, let them know." Derek said quietly, hearing Stiles stir inside. His eyes glanced up at the window, hearing the sudden shift in the bed, and the floor. Stiles was up, but the light was still off. He heard the small intakes of breath, like a small hiss of pain, followed by something hitting the floor. He turned to look at Isaac but Isaac was already gone.

Hearing another small thud, Derek jumped up to the roof, climbing his way quietly to the window he'd snuck into many times before. His eyes peered through the glass, just in time to catch a glimpse of some darkened tinges to the skin as Stiles moved for the bed again. Pushing the window open slowly, he heard Stiles groan and shift. Sharp breathes of air and stiff readjustments, Derek watched as Stiles managed to lamely snuggle under the covers of the bed.

Isaac had been right. As soon as he'd pulled the window open and stepped inside, the stale stench of blood, sweat and Argent burned his senses. His eyes burned, the wolf saw red, eyes turning the same color. He would hurt Gerard...he would hurt him, and the others...what if he'd killed Stiles...Derek's dirt and grass covered feet padded lightly over the bedroom floor, coming closer to the bed that the teen currently occupied.

"_**I'm sorry."**_ He said quietly. Stiles humming a small sleepy sound as his head lolled to the side, facing Derek. Derek inhaled sharply, seeing the dark circle under Stiles eye, the botched up skin of Stiles face and his lip, which Derek's thumb now lightly brushed over. The wolf inside whined, taking over as it leaned forward, lightly dragging its tongue across the skin of Stiles cheek, then his lip, trying to transfer some of its healing qualities over to the teenage human. Derek forced himself to draw back as he inhaled the scent up close, taking in the smells all at once.

It was then he smelled an undercoating of something else, something faint but..familiar. His brows knitted together as his brain tried to process the memory, sniffing the air. The smell was a little stronger towards the side of the bed. Derek padded over to the dresser and knelt down at the carelessly disposed of lacrosse gear laying on the floor. Reaching out with currently uneasy hands, the alpha lifted them to his nose, inhaling. Eyes shining red as the wolf inside him screamed.

"**Erica and Boyd.**" Derek's eyes snapped to Stiles, who was staring at him from the bed, at this angle even lying down, Stiles had a clear line of sight, so he could see the Alpha crouched down, holding the equipment to his face. Stiles eyes looked dull, almost lifeless for a moment before he saw pain and a familiar sense of helplessness rush through those features. **"I tried Derek...I tried to get them back..for you...but I couldn't...I'm sorry."**

Derek's head tilted to the side, in an almost canine way, but non threatening. Once again, his brows knitted together. He'd tried? For him? **"Are they..."**

"**No...not when I left anyway...they're still alive. Derek they are in the Argent's basement, and...I don't think Allison's father even knew. Or Allison...creepy grandpa Argent was spouting lies, I noticed it was just us when he managed to drag me out and into the SUV. Let me go a few blocks away...let me walk back..." **Stiles trailed off for a moment, breaking eye contact to stare up at the ceiling.** "Get them back Derek...get them back..."**


	3. Three: The bittersweet between my teeth

AN: Thank you for reading, Rae666 you're awesome. Also I apologize for this taking months to write. Life happens and muse is short... Enjoy. Let me know if I should continue this.

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_**Chapter Three**_**:**

_The bittersweet between my teeth ._

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"_Get them back Derek... Get them back." _There was a bittersweet taste in his mouth as his already exhausted body attempted to shift painfully on the mattress. Derek almost wondered if the boy meant get Erica and Boyd back, or Gerard back for what he did to all of them. Perhaps both. He would do both... he would try and be the Alpha they all deserved. It was disgusting how the thought that Peter, as deranged and screwed loose in the head as he is, may have been better at this Alpha thing as he was. And the man was subconsciously doing it a majority of the time. Still, that did not excuse murdering Laura, murdering family, blood... Laura was a better Alpha then either of them. Why Peter's wolf felt the volatile need to suddenly kill pack for power was beyond him. But Peter was never right after the fire. After his family died. None of them were alright, Laura just kept herself in check to keep Derek alive and be strong. How he wished she was here now to offer advice.

The sudden sound of a throat being cleared drew the wolfs attention back to reality and Derek realized he had drifted into his thoughts. Stiles brows knitted together in thought as well, only his thoughts seemed solely focused on Derek himself and perhaps the quiet that had suddenly filled the room. Stiles would laugh at the constipated expression Derek was wearing right now if it wasn't for the fact he was half asleep and currently wincing from the slightest movements. Instead his brain seemed to opt for use of his words instead of his laughter. **"Dude, stop thinking so hard or your face may end up that way permanently."**

Derek's brow raised in question to the remark when Stiles rolled his eyes and spoke again. **"You got this constipated look on your face."** As soon as he pointed it out, Derek's face relaxed from the constipated scrunch to his usual not so thrilled tight lipped scowl. _Damn sourwolf._ **"Okay...so now that I'm sobering a bit from the sleep I truly wish to go back to for eternity right now, and also the fact we've established Erica and Boyd may still be alive and we need to get them back...I just got to ask..why...are you crouched on my floor sniffing my lacrosse gear?"**

"**The scent is strong here..."** Derek replied after a few silent moments. The crickets were chirping off somewhere, seriously. Even though Derek's response was extremely short-lived, Stiles was quiet. For a moment the older male wondered if the boy had fallen back asleep. However as he focused his gaze back on him, he realized that Stiles lips had formed into a frown, the wrinkles at his eyes and the scrunch of skin at his brow now forming a different emotion, or cluster of them. As much as everything was still fresh in their minds, Derek stopped to think of the repercussions of suddenly bringing up the full details of tonight for Stiles. Then again, Stiles openly admitted he was taken, hurt, and saw the betas in the Argent's basement before being dropped off to walk his broken body home alone down the road.

Jaw clenched, and teeth slightly grinding on the words he was just carefully trying to accumulate for this conversation, Derek abandoned the lacrosse gear and stood up slowly. The boy's eyes on the bed followed his movements but still, he said nothing. Silently waiting for Derek to continue his explanation. Tugging his gaze away from Stiles, Derek decided to stare holes into the carpet. **"I could smell blood, and Gerard as soon as I opened your window. Although it lingers on you it's strong on the fibers of your gear...Especially above the chest plate. It smells like Argent, and sweat..."**

"**Yeah, figures...creeper Argent has a good fisted grip on me when he decided to beat me into next week. Still alive though, and I didn't scream, or give in. Just wish I had a little bit more time, I'd have has a better chance to get those chains off of one of them at least." **he exhaled and shut his eyes. The burning sensation of wanting to slip back into sleep weighing heavily on them.

As they closed though, he completely missed the sudden emotion flash through the Alpha. Derek couldn't believe Stiles, how selfless he was in the midst of chaos. The kid was kidnapped, and beaten. He was human, and yet even in the midst of his own pain he thought of saving the others. True, Stiles did many idiotic and ridiculous tings without thinking it out thoroughly and yes, most of those times especially recently have nearly gotten him killed. Still, it didn't deter Derek from being impressed and a little envious. On these occasions he's imagined what Stiles would be like as a werewolf. He could see him being a better Alpha than himself or perhaps right along side him.

"**That constipated look is back."** Stiles voice broke the silence, and process of thought and it was now, as Derek tore his eyes from the carpet, that he realized Stiles eyes were open again. The wolf rolled his eyes, giving a shake of his head before motioning to the window. About to make his leave and let the kid rest. But when the boy realized what this entailed, his heartbeat quickened into a sudden panic, features unchanging aside from the fact his entire body was now stiff and unmoving. Derek sniffed the air, the slight scent of fear and panic laced with the smell of blood,sweat and Argent...wait.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as Derek wondered how he had not picked up on this before. There was another smell layered in the room. Obviously Isaac hadn't come all the way in but his smell was distinguishable by the window. This however, this scent was different. This scent was wolf. Stiles registered the sudden change in Derek's stature and suddenly moved to pull himself up. Stopping only when Derek raised a palm to the air in a motion not to move. **"Derek."** Stiles managed to squeak out (in a manly way of course). **"Dude what is going on, you're freaking me out...more than usual."**

Derek growled low in his throat, partly in annoyance but mostly in anger.** "I'm not the only werewolf whose been here."**

Stiles face scrunched up in a _"no shit really?"_ expression as he said **"Well yeah, have you forgotten about Scott? You know, best friend Scott, slanted jaw, puppy dog eyes, bitten by your mad uncle peter which by the way has magically come back to life through some weird hoodoo with Lydia?"**

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose as Stiles ranted out his response. Obviously Derek wasn't a complete moron, however Stiles right now...he shook his head. **"It's not any of the pack, this scent is new, it's different."** He growled low again as he moved closer to the closet, opening it and tearing some of the clothes out. Earning a** "Hey, come on man what the hell...you're so cleaning that up!"**

Whatever the Alpha was looking for he obviously didn't find it, and it only seemed to leave the guy even more frustrated as he crossed over the now cloth ridden carpet to the window. **"Seriously Derek? ****What the hell was that, you're not honestly going to leave an injured civilian to clean that-"** but it was lost to the night as Derek disappeared out of the window. **"And he's gone.."** Stiles looked back at the tornado wreck of clothing on the bedroom floor and groaned, wincing as he let his head fall back onto his pillows. He seriously needed to lock that window.


End file.
